


If at first you don't succeed

by banshee_in_the_dark



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banshee_in_the_dark/pseuds/banshee_in_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles loses  his virginity to Lydia, <i>three times</i>. (Based on the AU gifset by scottmartinski)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If at first you don't succeed

They don’t really plan it, it just sort of… happens.

They aren’t even dating. They’re just good friends who occasionally make out and sleep on the same bed. And hold hands in public, sometimes. Oh, and they get together for brunch every Sunday with their parents, but really, it’s no big deal. They aren’t a couple. They’re just really close.

So close in fact that they are laying completely naked beneath the sheets, shoulders touching, both studiously staring up at the ceiling and, in Stiles’ case, quietly hyperventilating.

They should’ve just stuck with making out. Why, _why_ didn’t they stop before heated kisses and touches turned into fumbling hands (him), thinly veiled dissatisfied sighs (her), uncontrollable shaking (him again) and what at the end sounded pretty much like a pterodactyl hatching (guess who that was. That’s right. _Him_ ).

Of all the times he fantasized about having sex with Lydia Martin, he never quite imagined he would suck so bad. Like monumentally bad. Like he’s thinking about moving to Poland and pursuing a career growing sugar beets so he never has to see her again and relive the embarrassment on the past five minutes, _bad_.

The worst part is she’s not even mad at him, she even held him close and peppered kisses over every inch of his face she could reach while he finished oh so painfully, pathetically fast.

The night started out so good. Pizza and a movie, just like they do every Friday they’re, you know, not otherwise occupied battling supernatural creatures, only this time Lydia finally caved in and they watched Pacific Rim, which she’d thought would be silly but actually ended up loving. Then there was some cuddling which quickly escalated into making out and before he knew it, they were rolling on the bed in a tangle of semi naked limbs and Lydia gasped in his ear that the condoms were in her bathroom and to hurry up.

After that everything is a bit hazy. All the blood rushing south must’ve seriously impaired his memory. There was an attempt at foreplay, at least he thinks so, but he’s glaringly aware that he accidentally pulled Lydia’s hair and elbowed her at least twice, and when he finally pushed inside her slick heat his mind went completely blank. It was over as quick as it started.

Five minutes. _If that_. Counting the trek to the bathroom and the mess he left there trying to find the condoms, and the tortuous process of rolling it on under her gaze. So basically just two minutes.

“Stop it,” Lydia rolls on her side, drapes an arm over his stomach and rests her cheek on his shoulder. “Stop thinking.”

“I’m really sorry, Lydia.”

“Stiles, you don’t have to apologize.”

“But I do! I mean that was,” he groans, scrambling his brains trying to find a word that aptly describes that disaster. They all seem to fall short.

“It’s okay,” she pushes up on her elbow, fingers drawing random shapes on the planes of his chest. “It’ll be better the next time,” her lips brush a kiss on his and she rolls around pulling him with her behind her, securing his arm around her waist by threading their fingers together and  tucking them beneath her breasts.

He lets himself enjoy the feel of her on his arms, the smooth skin of her back and legs flush against his front, even though he doesn’t deserve it, and falls asleep lulled by her even breathing.

Butterfly kisses on her neck and shoulder stir her awake, the feel of Stiles’ toned body curled around her and his turgid hardness cradled against her bottom sending her pulse to beat wildly and heat pools low in her belly. Lydia wiggles teasingly, rubbing herself on Stiles’ cock and growing damp between her legs as his fingers dig on her hips and a throaty groan escapes him.

“I’m really, really sorry about before,” he apologizes needlessly, breath fanning over her cheek as he goes to nibble on her earlobe.

“I told you it’s o – _oh_ ,” the sudden bolt of pleasure catches her completely off-guard. Stiles’ fingers tease the seam of her pussy, parting her gently, dipping to find the telling wetness there and then rubbing slow circles over her clit.

It’s definitely better this time. Stiles takes his time – he might whisper something about making it up to her but she’s too far gone by the insistent thrusting of his fingers and the maddening mapping of his tongue on the tender skin beneath her ear to actually register it. She tells him she’s ready for him, to get a condom, but he refuses, pushing through until she’s reached her summit three times and she has to muffle her whimpers on her pillow.

He’s impossibly hard, rocking against her but never finding any relief of his own until he’s satisfied that he’s sufficiently made it up to her for their less than stellar first time. When he finally pushes inside her, holding her close and tight, she locks her legs around his waist and meets him thrust for thrust, tipping over the edge after a particularly well-aimed thrust hit the elusive bundle of nerves inside her, and taking him with her.

She wishes she could fall asleep like this, still connected to him in the most intimate way she knows, but she settles for the second best for practical reasons, laying a leg  between his and perching her head on his chest.

“Seriously, my mom is gonna come in any second now you need to go,” Lydia giggles, half-heartedly pushing his head away from her breast.

“Uh-huh,” Stiles’ increases the suction on her nipple, drawing the peak of her creamy breast fully inside his mouth and slowly letting it go through his teeth. Lydia’s thighs tremble against his hips, a rush of warm wetness flushing out and coating his cock. “In a moment,” he smiles, moving to her other breast as he slides his cock between her folds, making a point of bumping all the right places.

He’s just rolled a condom on and positioned his tip on her entrance when a soft knock on the door makes Lydia tense against him.

_“Honey, are you awake?”_

Her green eyes widen in panic as her hips arch up to take him in of their own accord. Stiles smirks, applying his mouth to the delicate curve of her neck as he plunges into her.

“Yeah!” Lydia replies, her voice coming out as a high squeak, fingers threading in his hair and pulling.

Stiles increases the tempo of his thrusts, rubbing hard on her clit with his pubic bone and running the flat of his tongue over the soft globes of her breasts.

_“Breakfast will be ready in twenty,”_ the door handle rattles. _“Why is this locked?”_

“I’m – I’m naked,” she squeezes her eyes shut, biting back a moan as Stiles hitches her leg higher and hitting her sweet spot with every push. “I’m changing!”

_“Okay,”_ her mother sounds mildly amused. _“Come down when you’re ready.”_

“ _Mmph!_ ” he swallows her cry as she comes, her walls rippling exquisitely and clenching him like a vine until he finds his relief as well.

They’re fashionably late for school. Scott notices instantly that their scents are all over each other and Allison can tell by the glazed look on her friend’s eyes that her relationship with Stiles has now officially exceeded the terms of a platonic friendship.

(They can’t stop thinking about their night together, and planning the many more to come.)

 


End file.
